my S&M playground
Occasionally there are moments when I torture myself. Painfully awkward situations that remind me I have the ability to succumb to pure masochism.
These incidents occur without warning. Its quick, like an explosion, and then suddenly they’re gone, like a thief in the night. Often I find myself trying to recall what happened, and even questioning if I lived it… or dreamed it up in my head like a colorful fairytale with a not-so-happily-ever-after.
It feels much like going down a rabbit hole… Or being swept up in a whirlwind. I feel… out of control, helpless, and vulnerable. and the strangest part, is that in those minutes of lunacy, there’s a sense of liveliness that’s unmatched by any other period lived through.
It’s like being alone on a merry-go-round as a kid. You start off with both feet planted on the ground, jogging while pushing the heavy metal apparatus around as your pace increases. Before long the handle you’re gripping feels more like its pulling you, than you pushing it… which is a clear indication that its time to hop on before it out-twirls you. So you leap onto the plaything and hold on with all your might as you spin faster, and faster and faster! Your surroundings become a blur, and your head gets foggy. You move closer to the center, thinking that will be the safest place, the spot which you’d be least likely to slip and fall from. Eyes closed, knuckles pale from maintaining a grip so tight, you wait as the spinning starts to slow, and eventually stop. And as your stomach begins to settle, you start the process all over again.
I wonder why I do this to myself. Why do I insist on getting on the merry-go-round over and over again? Maybe I figure this time I’ll manage to land a spot a little closer to the center. This time I’ll hold on tighter… Maybe this time I won’t slip and fall. Or maybe I secretly love that everything besides the thoughts in my head, my dreams and daydreams, becomes nothing but a blur, a hazy wash of colors, leaving me to create my own reality… Or fantasy——you choose.
Being on that proverbial twirling piece of equipment drowns out all the stuff I have to take in consideration when I snap back to consciousness. None of your "what-ifs", or "we-cants", or "but-what-abouts", matter up there in my whirlwind. Its peace and pain all wrapped up together so well that I cannot distinguish between the two.
I toss around all of the variables hoping to find the perfect formula for success, the answer… All the while, not realizing that this plaything, was meant to do one thing.
It was meant to twirl.
Slow or fast,
many or just one…
It spins.
No matter where I get on, no matter how I grip its handles, I will always be spun around unrepentantly.
Its my choice to get on or off. I just wish I knew which held more power, the ability to spin me around in circles… or my own masochism.
Where do I get off?
